Moratorium
by Princess Kitty1
Summary: -AU- Orihime Inoue was not superstitious. The ghost stories whispered by her new neighbors and friends, the unexplainable events; they all meant little to her... until she became the only person to see the demon at the edge of the woods. -Halloween Fic-
1. Wales Street

**A/N: **This story was written for the Halloween event on Bleach Asylum's UlquiHime fan club. The home that Orihime is moving into is a home I lived in for three years. _**Pictures of this story's locations can be found on my profile!**_

**Warnings: **This is my futile attempt at a horror story.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

**Moratorium**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Wales Street**

Orihime Inoue, age seventeen, was not superstitious. In fact, if there was one thing she could truly say she was afraid of, it was an alien invasion. _Those things are out there, you know,_ she would insist to the small group of friends she'd had at her old school in El Paso, Texas. _It's only a matter of time before they best our intelligence and overrun the planet with their slimy tentacles and blood-sucking war machines! _Needless to say, when she had watched War of the Worlds in theaters, she had fainted right in the middle of the film.

It was a sunny morning in Killeen, Texas when her older brother Sora, a soldier in the United States Armed Forces for several years, stopped his small car on the curb of a one-story house. "I guess this is it," he declared with somewhat of a proud swell in his chest. He had been caring for Orihime ever since she was small, having taken her out of their abusive home situation the moment he came back from basic. It had been a much better life for her, though moving from place to place was always hard. He knew that she hated saying goodbye to her friends, her established routine. But her experience in handling people had made her well-liked and extremely approachable. He had no doubt that she would fit in here, too.

Orihime, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, tucked a strand of reddish brown hair behind her ear and glanced out the window. It was a pleasant little house, she thought. There was a driveway sheltered by a tin-looking roof, a few scraggly shrubs lining the front of the structure, which was brick on the right side, wood on the left. A concrete walkway with a rusted rail led the way to the front door, though she had a feeling the interior would be easier to access through the second entrance in the driveway. In the front yard grew an enormous tree with a thick trunk and branches that jutted out over the street. Not the prettiest house in the world, but it had character. Orihime smiled, liking it immediately.

"Unfortunately the moving company won't be here with our things until tomorrow, but we can go out to Ft. Hood and get some rental furniture later." Sora looked at his younger sister. "What do you think?"

"I think I want to climb that tree," Orihime said decisively, her eyes already scanning for a notch or branch on which her foot could find purchase. Truthfully, she always felt a degree of anxiety when starting over fresh; who wouldn't? There was a new school to attend, credits to transfer, new people to befriend, classes to catch up on, hallways and streets to memorize… and of course, trying to decide where all her furniture was going to go in her new bedroom. "Let's explore!" she said, yanking off the seatbelt and throwing open the car door. The one-story house, Sora had explained earlier, was a little big for them with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, but it was the only thing they had been able to give him. Ft. Hood was currently choked with soldiers who had just returned from overseas, and with the new housing areas having yet to be completed, there were bound to be problems. Killeen was one of those cities that would become a ghost town without military presence.

And so Sora had been offered a place in Pershing Park, a housing area that was separate – but not all that far – from the main base. With its grassy fields, old oak trees and the large forest that divided it from Venable Village, another housing area within walking distance, the division had enchanted Orihime almost instantly. The fall sunlight made the trees glitter gold, and the pale blue sky above could have deceived her into thinking that she was in a coastal town rather than the middle of the Texas hill country, the very tip of tornado alley.

Orihime was afraid of tornados, too, but while the city had a high instance of watches and warnings, it was very rarely that one actually touched down. As she waited for Sora to open the driveway door, she made a mental note to check out the safe rooms. "There we go!" he said as the lock clicked and the heavy door swung into the house.

Well, they were in the kitchen now. The counter and appliances stood on their left, a window above the counter looking out into the front yard. There were two doorways that led into a spacious living and dining area, and beyond that was a door that opened into the backyard, which looked fairly big from where Orihime stood. No carpet anywhere in the house, either; a simple white tile floor covered the entire surface, cracked and raised in places. She wandered through the kitchen, passing the main entrance as she walked into the hallway. A door on the left, three on the right, and one up ahead. Which would she choose?

Instinct seemed to draw her to the door on the left. She pushed it open, coming across the first of four bedrooms. But she knew without a doubt that this would be the one she chose: the sunlight streamed in through a window directly across from the door, flooding the room in a beautiful glow. How delightful! Such a setting would be perfect for inspiring her creativity while she was sewing. She took in a deep breath. Despite the air being stale from the scrub-down the place had received before allowing anyone to move in, she could tell that this had previously been a boy's room. Girls would have left more tiny holes in the off-white walls from posters and calendars.

She could hear Sora moving back and forth between car and kitchen, unloading what little they had brought along, as she left her new room behind and explored the others. There was another directly in front of hers, then a linen closet, and finally the master suite. The fourth bedroom lay at the end of the hall, and next to it was what would become Orihime's bathroom. Satisfied, she turned back towards the kitchen, wanting to help Sora.

A chill ran down her spine. She stopped suddenly, blinking, and lifted a hand to her chest. Her heart had started racing. What was this unsettling feeling? Gazing into her room, she looked out the window, her eyes drawn to the space between the two houses in front, past the streetlamp, where the edge of the woods could be seen. The trees swayed gently in the outside breeze, gorgeous in the afternoon sunlight, but for whatever reason she felt nervous staring at them… as if _they _were looking at _her_.

…

The next day, after the movers had gone and she'd done a healthy amount of unpacking, Orihime told Sora that she was going out to get some fresh air. Earlier that morning they had registered her at Killeen High School, which was a good twenty minutes away with all the traffic lights between it and Pershing Park. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to start until Monday. She'd kind of been hoping to get it out of the way.

Wales Street was a downwards slope that ran perpendicular to the highway, parallel to the woods, and cut almost entirely through Pershing Park. She remembered her way to the shopette in the middle of the housing area, hoping that they had ice cream, because chilly weather always made her crave chilly food. Her taste buds were wired strangely, she supposed.

About three houses down from her own, she observed a small crowd gathered in the neighboring yard. The majority of them appeared to be upset: arms crossed, mouths pressed into thin lines, heads shaking. A few of the children in the group were chattering excitedly. Orihime slowed as she approached them, wondering what was going on.

"Just like the other ones, too. A hole torn right into its throat. I'm tellin' ya, what kind of monster would do that to a poor cat?"

"Hooligans! It's all them damn brats that live around here, stirring up trouble again. They broke into my house the other night! Left all the doors and windows unlocked, but didn't take a thing. What a stupid prank!"

"Come on, that gang moved out of here years ago. _Our_ kids would never do something like this."

"We ought to call the MPs, see what they make of all this."

"You already know what they're going to say, don't you? They're going to blame the ghost."

"Please! Ain't no such thing. Nobody's seen it, right? It's just a bunch of snot-nosed children raising hell 'cause they've got nothin' better to do." The older woman saying this noticed Orihime then, and called out to her with a sharp voice, "Hey!" The young girl flinched in surprise. "Come here a second, chickadee. You just moved in, right?"

Orihime hesitated a moment. The crowd had also turned to stare at her, but the hostility melted from their faces when they saw her. Surely a nice-looking girl like her couldn't have done whatever they were angry about. "Uh, yeah." She ventured closer. "My brother and I… my name is Orihime, and his is Sora… he's in the military."

"Ah, welcome to the neighborhood!" The older woman clapped her on the back enthusiastically. "Asian, too? Always nice to see some variety around here. You can call me Mrs. Anderson; I know everything about this here neighborhood, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask!"

Orihime nodded once and turned her head to see what they had all gathered around. Her stomach turned uncomfortably at the sight. Oh, it was definitely a cat… never mind the fact that its head had almost been torn clean off, a gaping hole in its throat, dried blood spilled out over the cheerfully green grass. Mrs. Anderson was speaking again, this time to a pair of housewives that had been whispering behind their hands. "Listen to yourselves! Ain't no such thing as ghosts. This cat was probably killed by a fox or a raccoon, or even a wild dog! We've got plenty of those around here. Forest is full of them!"

"She likes to deny it," a soft voice whispered in Orihime's ear, startling her, "but it's true." It was one of the housewives, leaning over her conspiratorially. "Learn this quick, new neighbor: Wales Street is haunted. Not just one house, either, but all of them." Her plump cheeks paled considerably. "If you've got pets, keep them indoors, and don't _ever _go out alone after sunset, hear me?"

"Y-Yes ma'am!" Orihime said quickly. She didn't have the heart to tell this woman that, like Mrs. Anderson, she didn't believe in ghosts. Her eyes fixed on the dead cat again. Anything could have killed that poor creature. There was no need to be afraid.

Sora, on the other hand, was a total baby when it came to ghost stories, so hopefully he wouldn't hear about any of this.

…

Killeen High School's mascot was a kangaroo – but not just any kangaroo, a _fighting _one. Orihime had to give them points for originality. Not many other high schools could claim such an interesting representative.

The Welcome Committee girl that they sent to show her around was named Rukia Kuchiki, and she was very short. But to make up for her stature, she had a big personality. If someone was in their way, she had no problems yelling at them to move their slow asses to the side of the hall. She was delighted to hear that Orihime lived in Pershing Park. "I'm in Venable Village!" Rukia declared proudly. "We can hang out after school if you'd like. Quick, let me see your schedule! If we have the same lunch period, I can introduce you to the gang."

So far, this was the easiest transition Orihime had ever had to make. At her last school, she'd been bullied in the beginning. She hadn't told Sora of course; he had plenty of other things to worry about. So she'd toughed it out until she had found a group of people willing to stick up for her. But she could tell that bullying wouldn't be a problem here. Military towns were full of diverse crowds. Everyone understood "being the new kid", so if they wanted to find something to dislike about her, they'd have to get to know her first.

Rukia's friends, for the most part, were as animated as she was. A cute boy named Ichigo, who Orihime figured was Rukia's boyfriend considering their proximity – and how much they bickered over every little thing – welcomed her. A boy with glasses named Uryuu, who she had seen in two of her classes already, greeted her politely. A huge Mexican boy nicknamed Chad nodded and smiled at her. And finally, there was a tall girl with an athletic build named Tatsuki, who had known Ichigo for years and didn't put up with his shenanigans either. They spent the lunch period giving her some healthy advice: The pizza line would always be the longest; the fastest way from the band hall to the science building was a straight shot through the school, with one turn in the 400 hall; the home economics classes were hidden in little branches, but she wouldn't have to worry because Uryuu was in her design class, and he'd be more than happy to wait for her; the French teacher Ms. Matsumoto was not-so-secretly dating Vice Principal Ichimaru, so if Orihime ever got in trouble, she should bring up the blonde to distract him.

Orihime smiled, making mental notes of all this advice; it didn't make much sense to her now, but when she got to know the school a little better she would apply it liberally. Not that she planned on getting into enough trouble to be sent to the assistant principal's office, but plans could always change. She couldn't deny that she'd enjoyed her share of pranks.

At the end of the day, Rukia escorted her to the grassy lawn at the front of the school where buses retrieved the students. Theirs was unfortunately packed – Rukia explained that the district was too lazy to assign a new bus to the Venable Village kids – so they all had to deal with what little space they had been given. Orihime was glad that she had someone to sit with, at least. She hated riding next to strangers; the awkward proximity, the silence, uncomfortable skin contact with every passing bump on the road. And even with her overstuffed backpack, Rukia was too small for any of that weird stuff to happen. They shared a pleasant ride across town, with the black-haired girl explaining Killeen's football rivalry with the other four high schools in the vicinity the entire way.

"This city is pretty crappy, but you'll like it, I think," she said as they stepped off of the bus in Pershing Park. "Everyone who leaves is somehow drawn back, even if they don't want to be."

"Oh, this is _much _better than El Paso," Orihime reassured her. "The only green there was in the cemeteries, and those aren't the best places for a picnic, if you know what I mean."

Rukia laughed, "Well, that's good to hear." She pointed off to a wide path between two of the houses on Wales. "See there, with the high fences on either side? That sidewalk leads to Venable Village. It's a safe shot through the woods." Despite the daylight, Orihime found it hard to make out what was beyond the two uneven planks, which stood like sentries guarding an entrance to sacred ground. She saw the high trees looming nearby, but because the path sloped downwards, the rest was hidden from sight. Rukia nudged her side. "It's not as scary as it looks, trust me." And with that, she started in the direction of the forest.

"I'm not scared!" Orihime squeaked, following close behind. In the event of a stalker, she had mace attached to her keychain, and a few months worth of self-defense classes to teach him a lesson with. If they got lost – though she doubted that possibility with the marked path – her cell phone had a built-in GPS. But if the aliens decided to come for them, well, her survival kit was at home in the bottom of her closet, so she was screwed. Other than that, she was set!

"Your neighbors have probably told you all of the ghost stories by now, huh?" Rukia grinned. "It's alright. They creep me out too; I don't blame you for being worried."

"Oh, I don't believe in ghosts." Orihime waved a hand dismissively. "But I've seen one too many horror movies, so I don't trust wooded areas."

"Really?" Rukia turned to look at her as they crossed the street and made their way to the start of the path. "So nothing, you know, _weird _has happened to you yet? I mean, I've heard some pretty crazy stories about this street." She drew her backpack's straps a little tighter. "People's pets freaking out at night, or going missing and turning up with their throats torn out; this awful, rotting stench after it rains; doors and windows unlocking by themselves; scratch-marks on the sides of houses… and that strange sound that at least five people have sworn they've heard," she shivered, "of something like giant wings flapping."

Orihime wrinkled her nose. "That could all be easily explained by something else," she said, taking the opportunity to admire her surroundings. The woods opened up into a large clearing on their left, separated from the houses by a hill covered in a dense conglomeration of trees. It really wasn't that scary; in fact, Orihime thought, it wouldn't be a bad place to come and take a nap on sunny afternoons. Directly up ahead, the woods grew thicker, casting shadows over what looked like a shallow river with a small bridge stretching over it. She was so distracted by the sight that she didn't hear Rukia speak until she poked her in the arm. "Huh?"

"I said, like what?" the shorter girl inquired, smiling.

"Well," Orihime took a deep breath and made an exaggerated gagging face, "it already smells funny down here, so rain could easily make the scent worse. There are wild animals in these woods, which could account for both the scratches and the dead pets."

Rukia hummed thoughtfully. "What about the doors and windows?" she asked as they stepped onto the bridge.

"I'll get back to you on that one. My neighbors think it's a bunch of troublemaking kids, though." Orihime stopped suddenly, her eyes drawn to something on the side of the wooden structure. Right in the middle, overlooking the dirty water below, was a small white cross, not unlike the ones placed on the sides of the roads in remembrance of traffic fatalities. "What's that? Somebody died here?"

Rukia paused. "Oh, yeah. A couple of years back, when I was still in middle school." She came to stand at Orihime's side, peering down at the cross. "He was around our age, I think. Went to Killeen High, hung out with the gang that used to live on Wales Street. They've all moved by now, thank goodness." She frowned huffily. "_They_ used to pick on me, but he was really quiet; always stayed out of their way, though I'm sure he tried to get them to stop once or twice. Anyway," she shrugged, "they found him in the water shortly after he went missing. It's weird, though. The river's barely ankle-deep, so the police suspected foul play. They even interrogated his friends, since half of them had bad reps, but everyone had an alibi. We were all paranoid that there was a murderer in the woods or something… hey, where are you going?"

"Hold on a second!" Orihime had jogged away from Rukia, her eyes scanning the nearby grass. There! She smiled triumphantly as she leaned down and plucked a few wildflowers, glad that not all of them had been killed by the chilling weather yet. Then she returned to where Rukia had been watching her and, tugging a few persistent clumps of dirt from the roots, she set the flowers down in front of the cross. "If there's one thing I've learned from living in El Paso, a place so rich in culture, it's that you should always honor the dead." She clapped her hands free of dirt and smiled at the small offering. "It's not much, but it'll make him happy, I'm sure."

Rukia sighed. "Wow. Make me feel bad with your heart of gold, why don't ya," she said jokingly.

Orihime laughed and turned away from the cross. "Ah, well." She shrugged. "Say, do you think that the guy who died is the one 'haunting' the houses on Wales?" she said, making finger-quotations in the air.

"No," Rukia's expression suddenly turned grim, "a nice guy like him? Never." She spared an over-the-shoulder glance at the innocent white cross. "Whatever's in these woods isn't some poor kid… it's a freaking monster."

…

It would have been nice if they'd cut her some slack, being the new student and all. But such transitions, Orihime had learned over the better part of her childhood, did not evoke sympathy in most. Homework piled on no matter who you were and how recently you had moved. Warily eyeing the clock hanging above her bed – it was well past midnight – she cursed her misfortune, thinking of how much she just wanted to _sleep_. Her last school had operated on a block schedule, offering her the opportunity to put off assignments for at least half of her classes, but Killeen shoved all seven periods into one day. "Work," she grumbled, "work, work, work!" Ignoring the papers scattered on the desk before her would not make them disappear, as nice as that would have been.

Her stomach growled, but Sora was already in bed and she didn't want to risk waking him by venturing out to visit the refrigerator. Besides, she could simply wait and have breakfast in the morning. Midnight munchies were a surefire way to gain weight for an adolescent female, she thought with dismay. As delicious as the leftovers of the dinner she had prepared earlier sounded, she would rebuke the tantalizing memory of its taste and conquer Algebra II once and for all.

The neighbor's dog struck up a chorus of yelps outside. Orihime blinked, looking up from her papers. The blinds were closed, the curtains drawn, but a sliver of orange light from the lamp across the street managed to sneak into her room, casting its glow on her idle hands. She listened for a while, wondering what had the dog so distressed.

Wait a minute! Her eyes widened in excitement. Now was her chance, she realized, to catch the hooligans in the act! Oh, where was her camera when she needed it? Standing carefully from her desk chair, she tip-toed to her unfortunately still-made bed and stooped over. She had invested in storage baskets for the sake of keeping her things, as she had a tendency to hoard, which she kept under the bed to avoid leaving a mess around the room. Why she'd never put food in there was beyond her; perhaps she would ask Sora to take her to Wal-Mart the next day so she could stock up.

Reaching for one of the baskets, she groped around in the lamplight until she found the small box that contained her digital camera. "Ugh!" she whispered, retracting her hand. The box was wet. "What the heck?" Panicking, she tugged it open and hoped that the contents were safe. Luckily, she had a habit of keeping the camera wrapped up in the same plastic it had come in, and upon dumping it into her hand she was pleased to discover that it was perfectly dry.

But how had it gotten… oh! Now she remembered. Back when they had been unpacking, she had clumsily spilled a bottle of water into one of the boxes. Sora had handled the contents, asking her to fetch the paper towels. Why hadn't he told her that her camera was in there? She'd have to kick him in the morning. Pressing down on the power button, she thanked her good fortune; there was plenty of battery left to get a snapshot of the troublesome kids as they escaped the scene of whatever crime they were committing.

Orihime excitedly danced over to her window and snapped the curtains back, then grabbed hold of the plastic stick hanging down from the top and began to turn it, the blinds creaking open slowly. She glanced at her camera's screen, switching options so that she could get a decent night shot and made sure the pesky flash was off. "That ought to do it," she muttered, looking out into the empty street. Now she, the new neighbor with good intentions, could dispel the myth that had the housewives and Rukia so restless.

The camera slipped from her hand and fell onto her algebra textbook with a _thud_.

What…

_What was that_?

Her eyes honed in on the dark, disfigured mass atop the streetlight, a shot of ice speeding through her veins, seizing her heart in its powerful grip. It was _huge_, whatever it was. How had the pole not bent or toppled beneath its weight? The orange light did nothing to help her discern what she could possibly be looking at, but she was starting to get a pretty good feeling…

Something moved. Yes, she saw it, descending from the figure, hanging like a vine: a tail. One long black string that twitched in the glow of the lamp. And then – as if the thing couldn't possibly get any bigger – the shadow elongated horizontally. A black outline formed against the night sky as, in a surprisingly nimble gesture, the grotesque being lifted from the post and vanished without a trace.

But in the ensuing silence, Orihime heard it as clearly as she'd heard her camera hit the surface of the desk: the sound of enormous wings beating the air overhead.

…

She wouldn't tell anyone. Nope. No one at all. They didn't have to know that the girl who had proudly proclaimed her disbelief in ghosts had just seen, with her own two eyes, a _demon_. Yes, that's what it had to be. A pet slaying, house-haunting demon.

Sora had been awakened by the clatter of her camera, and he'd paused outside of Orihime's door to ask if she was alright. Yes, she had replied, perfectly fine. Of course she was fine. Why wouldn't she be? Never mind the fact that she'd seen a monster across the street, she was a-ok. Hunky-dory. Life was a big basket of freshly baked bread and she was going to take a huge, buttery bite!

Perhaps she was dreaming, she thought as she hastily put her homework away, closed the window, and marched to her bed. She'd given up on algebra an hour or so earlier and climbed into the warmth of her Hello Kitty comforter, but the assignment's demands to be completed plagued her otherwise uneventful rest.

It was a dream, she told herself as she slipped beneath the covers.

All of those silly stories had just gotten to her. That was all.

She squeezed her eyes shut, threw the blankets over her head and reached for Soldier, the teddy bear dressed in BDUs that Sora had given her when he'd first joined the military. "This is just a dream," she whispered fervently, then took several deep calming breaths as she waited for sleep to come for her. "Just a dream…"

"_Yoo-hoo…"_

Orihime's mind grew cloudy, her grip on the bear loosening. Yes, finally. She would soon awaken to the sounds of the local radio station belting out a pop song from her alarm clock radio.

"_Hey!"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Were you listening to a damn word I said? God, you've been spacing out more than usual, I swear." A long-faced teenager with electric blue hair and eyes to match was glaring right at her… her? No, him. He was glaring at him. How in the world had he gotten to Killeen High School's cafeteria? "Take your nose out of the book for one damn second and tell me what you think," the gruff boy shoved two index card-sized pieces of paper in his direction, "this print, or this one? Personally I like the one on the left, but it's a group decision so we need your input."_

_He looked down: a sequence of numbers from 0 to 9, each in a different font. "I think my parents would kill me if I got a tattoo."_

"_Oh, grow the fuck up. We're going to college next year! Mom and Dad won't be chasing you around, you know. Besides, unless they suddenly decided to go to the beach, they wouldn't see it anyway."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Yours was going to be on your chest, wasn't it?"_

"_Who in the world decided that?"_

_A girl with long, wavy hair dyed neon-green took the arm of the blue-haired guy. "Don't scare him, Grimmjow," she scolded before turning to the black-haired boy with the vivid emerald eyes. "You can get it anywhere you choose. I'm going to have mine put right in the middle of my back!"_

"_What a trooper!" The blue-haired boy – Grimmjow, was it? – looped a muscled arm around her waist and kissed her deeply. "See? Even Nel's going through with it, so you'd better not chicken out on us." He began pulling Nel in the direction of the pizza line. "I'm freaking starving. Have one chosen by the time I get back or I'm picking for you!"_

_As they departed, he lowered his head, green eyes darting back and forth between the two index cards. He considered the first, then the second, then the first again. Apprehensive as he may have been, he agreed that the one on the left was much better. He tapped his finger against the ornately drawn number four, wishing he could somehow talk Grimmjow out of this. But he was the leader; what he wanted, he always got – even the number six, though it hardly made sense that the top dog would settle for anything other than one._

_Oh well. He was to blame for getting mixed in with such an interesting crowd. But when it came right down to it, the quiet ones were always a magnet for the loudest, so he shouldn't have expected anything less. They were his friends, they loved him – sometimes – and they wanted him to get a tattoo._

_Even though it hurt; the needle and ink piercing his flesh, burning as it tied him to them for the rest of eternity._

_Searing, scorching, scalding… it hurt so much… so much…_

Orihime gasped, bolting upright in bed. Her alarm clock was belting a Black Eyed Peas song. Her top was halfway unbuttoned. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, hair matted to her forehead, pajamas sticking to her back and legs; she might as well have had a bucket of water dumped on her. And her fingernails, which she now removed from the space between her left breast and collarbone to stare at in horror, had savagely clawed her burning skin until it bled.

**To Be Continued**

**A/N: **In case you were wondering: _Moratorium_: a suspension of activity. This is going somewhere, I swear. And this is the last idea standing in the way of my finishing Muse!

…was it somewhat scary enough? Do let me know by clicking that totally non-threatening button down there!


	2. Lucid Dreams

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or anything else I may mention along the course of this fic.

**Moratorium**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Lucid Dreams**

Rukia was absolutely right about Killeen. On weekends, one was faced with the following options: they could go to the movies (expensive), they could go to the mall (a one-story, L-shaped deal which proudly boasted a Dillards), or they could go to Wal-Mart (of which there were three). It took a resident – tourists were advised to run away and never look back – to be truly creative, and lucky for Orihime, she had found herself an imaginative bunch to hang out with on Saturday afternoons.

"You get the full treatment, see?" Ichigo pointed out of the foggy glass window, down the busy street known as Rancier. "Shaved ice stand over that way," he smacked the table in front of them with his palm, "Hawaiian food right here!" When the group – divided into two cars, one for males and one for females – had pulled into the pothole-ridden lot of the tiny restaurant, Orihime had immediately been filled with doubt. After all, places like this weren't usually any good. Oh, had she ever been proven wrong! The moment the perfectly cooked kalua pork had touched her tongue, she'd fallen into sheer bliss.

"Save the shaved ice for the summer, Kurosaki. It's freezing out there!" Tatsuki exclaimed, rubbing her bare shoulders for emphasis.

October in Texas was perhaps the most awkward month in terms of weather. The days started out in the high forties or low fifties, then capped off in the mid eighties. The thirty degree difference in temperature was enough to aggravate the dormant viruses slumbering within the population, causing a rapid flare of colds and influenzas that had Orihime carrying around a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer wherever she went. There was no way she was getting sick! Although if she did, she could stay home and sleep…

She cast a distracted look around the table, catching snippets of the several conversations carrying on at once. Ichigo and Rukia were arguing over a packet of soy sauce on the table, never mind the fact that there were plenty more at the counter. Tatsuki was rolling her eyes, looking ready to fling her chopsticks at both of them. Uryuu and Chad were discussing the difficulty level of their history homework.

They were all so _normal_. There was no way she could tell them of the strange dreams that had been plaguing her for close to two weeks now, in which she was another person, with a completely different life and a troublemaking group of friends. She couldn't let it slip, how badly she was looking forward to sleeping these days. The drama of her dreams was enough to make her wish that she could stay in that blissful unconsciousness forever.

This male alter-ego of hers – if that's what he was – may have been quiet, but he had such loud and interesting thoughts. There was an opinion in his brain about almost everything, most of the time never _good_, but he had his reasons for thinking of certain people and things as 'trash.' Even his friends were subject to this intense scrutiny of his, though she knew that in their case, he didn't mean it. Somehow, and perhaps this was the strangest thing of all, she could sense his _heart_. The pranks that Grimmjow, the blue-haired guy, played with his lanky friend Nnoitra and their pink-haired associate Szayel, may have been looked down upon in his mind, but his heart found them amusing. He pretended to be disgusted by Starrk, a scruffy brunette senior, and his blonde girlfriend Hallibel's public displays of affection, but in truth he was happy for them. Orihime closed her eyes, wondering what she would see – if anything – when she went to sleep tonight.

While the dreams themselves were strange, Orihime wasn't all that bothered by them. She figured that all the stories she had been hearing were teaming up with her rampant imagination to give her some entertaining slumbering hours. She did, however, want to find out more about the ghost stories surrounding Wales Street; her encounter with the beast hadn't been forgotten in the slightest. And who better to ask than her neighbors?

…

"What? Don't tell me you're starting to believe all of that bull crap." Mrs. Anderson, the first person Orihime went to in her investigation, gave her a skeptical look. Darn it. Orihime didn't want to, but in this case, to get information she would have no choice but to lie.

"Not at all! I'm writing a paper on superstitions in the area," she said, putting on her most charming smile. "Lucky I moved to Wales Street, huh?"

Mrs. Anderson laughed good-naturedly. "Alright, I'll tell you everything I know." She stepped out of the house, the screen door swinging shut behind her as she moved to stand next to Orihime on the front step. "For starters, the so-called haunting started three years ago, after that gang left the street."

"A gang?" Orihime tilted her head curiously, maintaining her innocent mask.

"Sure," Mrs. Anderson pointed at a house down the road. "One of them lived there," her hand moved to designate another, "one there, one in my house, one in yours… there were nine of them in total, I think. They all ran around calling themselves the Espada, terrorizing the neighborhood kids and acting like they owned the place. You'd think they would get over such childish behavior in middle school!" She snorted disdainfully. "Always in trouble with the police for what they called 'harmless fun.' Some of them, though, had nasty tempers. Wouldn't be surprised if they'd done time at the alternative school."

"Sounds bad," Orihime muttered, getting an odd sense of déjà vu.

"It was. Their parents didn't care enough to put a beating on them, so half the time it was me chasing them away from my fence. Stupid kids, always harassing my poor dog."

Orihime blinked. She hadn't _seen _any dog… "You have a pet?"

Mrs. Anderson's gaze fixed itself on the edge of the woods, her mouth pulling down even further. "Not anymore."

…

"A gang? Oh, sure, I remember one of them." Orihime's next stop was one of the houses that Mrs. Anderson had pointed out as belonging to a member of the troublesome bunch that had once plagued the street. Now the only people who lived there were a young pregnant woman whose husband was overseas. "We got here kind of late, so by then most of them had left. But there was one… sorry, I can't remember his name… he was still hanging around when we moved in. Always prowling the woods, wandering around aimlessly. I guess he missed his friends."

"What did he look like?" Orihime asked her, though she knew that this wouldn't be a valid question in an interview about a haunting.

"It's been so long. He had a weird hair color, is all I remember." The young woman shrugged helplessly. "Mrs. Anderson tends to pin the blame on him and his group… you know, all the haunting stuff. But that didn't start until they had all left." She shivered and rubbed her arms as if the chill from outside had gotten into her bones. "If you walk around to the side of the house," she said, pointing to the corner, "you'll see proof of the ghost. Can't convince me that it was anything else, no sir."

And Orihime _did_ go around the side of the house. She stood in the lawn and stared at the long, jagged lines cut into the wood, splintering it in places. They started at the top of one of the windows, curved to either side and then under it in a strange oval shape. Instinctively, her arm raised from her side and her fingers touched the surface, following the claw marks that were too far apart to belong to any sort of woodland creature.

Her mind flashed back to the night she had seen the monster. She hadn't been able to get a good look at it before it had flown away. A long tail, and two huge black wings; that was all she'd seen. But certainly a thing like that would have claws to fit the markings in the wood.

The only question here was, Why did a demon inhabit the forest beyond Wales Street? What kept it there, when it could have easily gone back to the abyss from which it came? She pondered this as she walked back towards her own house. What did demons do? They ate souls, right? Was it after the souls of the people who lived on Wales, herself included? Then why had it only attacked pets so far? Maybe it was warming up for the main event?

Her head was starting to hurt, so she decided to call it a day on her investigation. She'd pick up again tomorrow. Besides, the sky had grown overcast, dark clouds laden with rainy burdens moving in on Killeen. She managed to make it home just before the first droplet hit her nose.

Sora didn't usually come back until around five, so she had the place to herself for most of the afternoon, which was good when she got the urge to do something weird. For example, the other day she had been listening to music and had felt compelled to dance around the house. So she'd cranked up the stereo, restarted the song, and had done just that. It was very liberating. Today, however, she decided she would take a nap to relieve her headache before starting on dinner. The steady sound of the falling rain was the perfect lullaby. She went into her room, going first to her desk, where she grabbed a piece of paper out of her school binder and began writing down the stories she'd gathered from the neighbors.

Yes, this was her plan: she would collect all the accounts and pile them together, then search them for connections so she could determine the monster's motives. But even if she _did _manage to figure it out, what would she do with that information? Perform an exorcism? Have a friendly chat with that hideous being, who probably didn't even understand human tongues? She frowned, thinking that she'd just have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

With the stories safely written down, she took a running start and flung herself onto her bed, kicking off her shoes before wriggling under the covers. She clutched Soldier to her chest, wondering if she even _would _dream this time. Her previous attempts to jump back into her male counterpart's life by napping had proven unsuccessful. Maybe she wasn't getting into a deep enough cycle? Hmm… but she always felt so well-rested afterward.

"_Ulquiorra,"_

That was her cue, she knew, to sink further into the darkness. It was the first time she'd heard his name, but somehow…

"_I'm trying to study."_

"_Well, give it a rest!" He and Grimmjow were sitting in Orihime's bedroom, only the furniture was different. Yup, she knew it had belonged to a boy all along. "Serious conversation time, I swear," the blue-haired male promised with a toothy grin. Ulquiorra sighed and snapped the book closed. _

"_What is it?"_

"_I was just thinking," his friend leaned back until he was completely sprawled out on the bed, as if it were his. There was that tick of annoyance at Ulquiorra's personal space being violated, but what Grimmjow wanted, Grimmjow got. It was a well-established fact of their relationship. "When we go to college next year… you're still going to let me copy off of your homework, right?"_

_Silence. Then Ulquiorra grabbed the nearest thing he could find – his heavy chemistry book – and threw it at Grimmjow. "No," he said sternly, ignoring his friend's curses and complaints. "We're not even going to the same school."_

"_Right, right. You had to be the overachiever and apply to UMHB while the rest of us stay behind in CTC like the broke bastards we are."Grimmjow grumbled, shoving the book away. "At least we can still get away with living in the same neighborhood, right? Well, until the army decides to separate us." His blue eyes became unfocused, then, and a deep sigh left him through his nostrils._

_Ulquiorra turned away, staring out the window. It had started to rain outside, pouring in a steady stream that drifted over the woods like a mist. "You really miss Nel, huh?"_

"_Of course I do," came the half-hearted growl from behind him. "I miss her every damn day."_

_Ulquiorra blinked slowly, then leaned forward and rifled through the contents of his black backpack. Before long, he found what he was looking for. Withdrawing the papers from inside, he turned and put them down on Grimmjow's face. "The math homework you came for," he stated simply. "But don't think I'll let you copy it again. You're smart, so I suggest you start using that brain of yours before it withers and dies."_

_Grimmjow laughed. "Cut me some slack. I'm balls deep in other assignments."_

"_Please refrain from using such vulgar language in my house."_

"_Uptight as always," the taller of the two sat up from the bed and clapped him on the back. "Don't sweat it. I'll sneak you over to CTC for some booze every once in a while. Your goody two shoes Christian school would throw a fit if I showed up with a keg, huh?"_

"_Probably," Ulquiorra tenderly touched the tattooed skin beneath his shirt. It still hurt from time to time, but it was much better than it had been at first. Treating it while keeping it hidden from his parents had been unnecessarily complicated, he thought with a sigh. And yet, as much of a pain as it was, he was kind of glad it was there. He knew that Nel, who had moved up to Kentucky, was probably glad to have hers as well. The number three on her back – _I'm half of you now, _she had said to Grimmjow when she'd gotten it – would always keep her tethered to the friends and man she had loved so dearly._

_Ulquiorra knew it was the same for him. He may have been going to a different school and wouldn't be able to see everyone as often as he'd liked, but they would always be connected. Distance couldn't change the fact that he was Grimmjow's best friend, even if they hardly acted like it in public, and the number four on his chest was the symbol of that unbreakable bond._

"Orihime?"

_It would be there forever, even when he was old and gray and did nothing but reminisce about the few good times he'd had in his school days._

"Sis, are you home?"

_And it would be there, visible beneath the thin material of his shirt when they – _

"Orihime!"

Her eyes snapped open. Sora was home? Oh dear, she'd overslept! She tore out of bed in a hurry, running into the kitchen to greet him. But she was distracted, still coming out of her haze, and the huge smile on her face had him instantly questioning her good mood. "It's nothing!" she giggled, wanting to dance in her elation.

She'd finally learned his name! _Ulquiorra_… how did she even spell that? What a weird name for an alter-ego!

"Good thing you didn't start dinner yet," Sora winked at her, "we were completely out of ketchup, and I know you wanted to make your super omelets today so I made sure to stop by the shopette for more. Let me get it from the trunk, before I forget," he muttered, turning and pulling the kitchen door open.

As a cool breeze drifted into the house, wafting past Orihime, she immediately recoiled in disgust. "Ugh!" she cried, covering her nose. "What is that _smell_?" This must have been what the neighbors were talking about. But it couldn't have been the garbage; that had been collected the previous morning. Furthermore, it didn't smell like soggy trash. She found nothing to compare it too. The only word that came to mind was _rotting_. It smelled like something was decaying, putrid and utterly disgusting, and it lingered even after Sora had closed the door.

…

Over the weekend, Rukia invited Orihime and Tatsuki over for "a completely girly sleepover that none of you boys would be remotely interested in," she'd said while sticking her tongue out at the males of the group. It had been a while since Orihime had participated in a true slumber party. Her old friends had lived in a bad part of town, and Sora had looked so nervous when she'd brought up visiting that she'd decided against going for his sake. Of course, he'd have to make it up to her by treating her to the biggest ice cream sundae she could eat the next day.

She met up with Rukia at the school bus stop in Pershing Park on Saturday afternoon, and together they sat on the curb while waiting for Tatsuki to arrive. Orihime had already been out and about that morning, interviewing more of her neighbors about the Wales Street Ghost. According to the family that lived next door, no one had ever seen the phantom, which is why opinions on whether or not it really _was _a haunting were so divided. For example, if it was a ghost, someone would have noticed it skulking around at night. On that same note, if it was a group of kids, they must have been pros if nobody had ever caught them in the act.

The couple who lived right next to the forest path had set up a surveillance camera a few months prior to Orihime moving in. It was their one and only attempt to unveil the identity of the ghost. They left it running overnight, facing the street, and even stayed up to make sure that nobody came along and messed with it. When they had retrieved it the next morning and played back the tape, it had at first appeared to be completely black… then, as they fast-forwarded through the material, they saw that the camera had somehow been twisted upwards to catch the moon as it passed through the sky. Once the moon disappeared, the tape cut off.

Needless to say, they had destroyed the video and returned the camera to the store, claiming that it hadn't worked.

"That's so creepy!" Rukia cried when Orihime told her about it. She leaned back on her palms, pulling out blades of dried out grass. "Why are you suddenly so interested in the ghost, though? Thought you didn't believe in those things."

"I don't, but I have a nerdy cousin who practically wet their pants when I let it slip that I was living on a supposedly haunted street," Orihime lied, adding in an eye-roll for emphasis. There was no need to alarm Rukia, who seemed genuinely worried about the specter, especially when she didn't even know what it wanted. There was a good chance that the monster was just angry because it had a thorn stuck in its foot and couldn't pull it out with its claw-like hands.

Tatsuki arrived shortly after, complaining about the hassle of getting there. Venable Village had a tendency to check the IDs of incoming vehicles, while Pershing Park did not, which made little sense considering that the latter was larger. It gave civilians a headache.

"Well, I'll make it up to you. Halloween's coming up so I used my brother's Netflix account to get as many horror flicks as I could," Rukia said, patting her back.

"You have a brother?" Orihime blinked in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. He's older than us by far – "

"And totally hot," Tatsuki interjected.

" – and, eww, no!" Rukia groaned, shaking her head as if she'd heard that comment one too many times. "Honestly, I don't know what you all see in him. He's so _boring_. God, you'd think he would have gone out and done something exciting with his life, but no. Do you know what he became? An accountant. He spends all day doing _math_, and then he goes home and does whatever single guys do at home alone. Drink beer, watch ESPN, scratch their nether regions…"

"That about sums it up." Orihime patted her shoulder comfortingly.

Tatsuki snorted. "He's still hot. You didn't see a picture of him when you went to visit Rukia last time?"

She might have, but she couldn't remember, so she shook her head once. And then she kept her mouth shut as the two argued over what, in their opinions, qualified as 'hot.' Rukia, of course, brought up several of Ichigo's characteristics, which Tatsuki refuted with facts about what he'd been like as a kid: a coward, a crybaby, and an overall punk. "You're in the honeymoon phase," she drawled as they walked over the bridge in the woods.

Orihime paused, staring at the cross that overlooked the water. "Oh!" she cried, drawing the attention of her companions. "Wow, the flowers are still there!" Walking forward, she leaned over and smiled, touching the withered petals gingerly. She'd expected the rain to wash them away, but in fact, it had done the exact opposite. The water had added enough weight to the flowers to keep them on the bridge, plastered to the bottom of the cross. _It's a good thing, too. I didn't see any more around so if these had been lost, I'd have had nothing to offer him_.

"Maybe you can get a small bouquet at the PX next time you go," Rukia suggested. "It'd be better than those dead little things."

"Yeah," Orihime stood up again. "But at least for now this will keep him happy."

…

Rukia's house was smaller than Orihime's, located on a cul-de-sac not too far from the woods. She said that she'd always found it weird that, despite her proximity to the haunted area, Wales Street was the only place in the vicinity that got attacked. Tatsuki, who also hated ghost stories, asked that they not discuss supernatural beings in the woods, especially when Rukia's bedroom faced them.

Orihime had honestly been expecting something more _masculine_ the first time she had gone to Rukia's, considering the girl's personality. But the room was covered in pink and pastels, teen magazines, and stuffed animals, the majority of them rabbits; Rukia had already begged Orihime to sew her one to add to her collection. In fact, the only hint to her true nature – or was _this_ her true nature? – was the selection of slasher films alphabetized neatly next to her television. Other than that, it was an adorable room, complete with a cork board full of pictures of her and Ichigo being silly at school or around town.

Almost immediately, Tatsuki ran to grab as many family photos of Byakuya Kuchiki as she could find. Rukia rolled her eyes and chased after her. "If you're going to do that, you might as well just raid his bedroom!" Orihime heard her yelling from somewhere down the hall.

"Ooh! Do the sheets smell like him?"

"He hasn't been home since July, so I'm guessing that they don't." Tatsuki poked her head back into the room.

"He wears this totally delicious, expensive cologne that his on-again, off-again girlfriend buys him," she filled in conspiratorially. "Come on, Hime! Don't leave me feeling like a stalker!" She ran in and grabbed Orihime without waiting for a disagreement, dragging her out of the room and down the small hallway.

From the kitchen, Rukia called out: "You guys want anything to drink? We've got grape soda, Big Red, knock-off Sprite, root beer, chocolate milk that comes in boxes with little bendy straws…"

"Root beer for me, please!" Tatsuki turned the corner into Byakuya's bedroom so sharply that it gave Orihime slight whiplash. She barely managed to choke out that water would be fine before she was handed a Killeen High School yearbook from 2004, a collage of photos and kangaroos decorating the cover. "Hold onto that. The pictures in there are priceless," Tatsuki giggled excitedly. Orihime looked around the room while the taller girl rummaged through neatly arranged binders for more photo albums.

She hadn't really been in a boy's room before – Sora totally didn't count, in her book. It was so… plain. The comforter was dark blue, perfectly made. There was no dust on the furniture – Rukia's mother was apparently neurotic about dirt – and the only thing hanging on the wall were framed assortments of high school memorabilia: dance tickets, a maroon graduation cap with its shining tassel, and a pamphlet from a band concert. Orihime was beginning to wonder if she should do something similar for her graduation when Tatsuki turned her around and ushered her back down the hall. "Rukia will get mad at me if I stay in there for too long," she laughed.

Orihime smiled, catching onto her friend's enthusiasm and feeling a bit anxious to find out what all the hype was for. They nearly collided with Rukia, who rolled her eyes at them and let them into her room first. "You two are such girls."

"Says the chick with a room full of pink!" Tatsuki shot back.

"Hey, I have a Hello Kitty comforter," Orihime admitted, to which they all had a good laugh as they took their respective drinks and sat on Rukia's bed. The television came on to provide some background noise while the guests fawned and the host sulked.

"You've _got _to see this one first." Tatsuki set another KHS yearbook, this one from 2000, on Orihime's lap and began flipping through to the freshman section. "I swear, it's like looking at two completely different people."

"I still don't see what your obsession with my brother is," Rukia threw in as she channel-surfed at a rapid pace.

"Don't get jealous, shrimp. We'll look at your middle school yearbook picture next," Tatsuki said with a grin. She scanned the page of faces and squealed, pointing out Byakuya Kuchiki. "_Look at him! _Isn't that so cute?"

Orihime examined the boy indicated by Tatsuki's chewed fingernails. He was frowning, long black hair brushed back, a wild gleam in his eyes. He seemed like the type who got into fights often. But he was pretty cute, baby-faced and looking very much ready to take the bull by the horns. "Aww," she looked up at the disinterested Rukia, "I see a family resemblance."

"Psh, he and I look nothing alike."

"She's in denial," Tatsuki said, having already cracked open the 2004 yearbook. Finding Byakuya again, she turned the heavy volume and placed it on top of the one in front of Orihime. "Now here he is, four years later." The baby-face and wild gleam were gone, replaced by a well-defined jaw and an air of mystery that radiated from his flawless posture. "Isn't that _eerie_? It's like he did a complete one-eighty!"

"So much so," Rukia added, "that he was voted _Most Changed Since Freshman Year_. He didn't think it suited him very much. He would have rather have won _Most Likely to Succeed_, but he got one-upped by the valedictorian."

Orihime smiled and picked up the cover, letting the pages fall back into place. Supposedly the school had recently undergone renovations, so she was curious to see what it had looked like before –

A loud cry tore from her throat, her hands flying away from the book. Tatsuki and Rukia gazed at her curiously, but her eyes were fixed on the album's very first page, where a memorial had been placed for a deceased senior. But she _knew _the boy in that black-and-white photo, who stared at her with the same even expression that she sensed he gave everyone and everything in her dreams. And she knew she shouldn't have looked, but she sought it out anyway: his name, the one that she had _just _learned…

**In Memory of Ulquiorra Cifer: December 1, 1986 – October 31, 2004.**

"W-Who…" she stuttered, her voice sounding foreign to her ears.

Rukia glanced at the page once, not understanding what had made Orihime so upset. "Oh, right… he was a senior like my brother. It was really sad," she said, looking up into Orihime's pale face before speaking again. "That's the boy who drowned in the river."

Orihime was already frantically turning pages back to the senior section, hoping that it was some mistake; that she was in some kind of delusion. But there he was, in full blown color, dressed in his graduation gown like the others. And as she flipped back and forth, she found most of them: Starrk C., Tia H., Szayel G., and Grimmjow J.

The gang from her dreams, nearly all of them present, save for the ones who had already moved.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

**To Be Continued**

**A/N: **Think she realizes now that he isn't a product of her imagination?

What happens next? I've finally decided that this story will end on Chapter Four. :D Click that review button and speculate!


	3. Witness

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

**Moratorium**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Witness**

The dreams weren't going to stop, were they?

Almost every night Orihime went to sleep and found herself standing in Ulquiorra's shoes, catching his eye in the bathroom mirror, hearing his thoughts, feeling his heart. She wanted to reach out and touch him, he was so close. But the end result was always the same: she couldn't. As much as she wanted to materialize within the film reel of his memories, to talk to him, to warn him of what was to come… it just wasn't possible. And it hurt sometimes, to see and feel his contentment, the comfort he felt in the midst of his friends. It made her heart ache when he sat at the desk by the window, unable to focus on his homework, looking forward to whatever they had planned for the weekend.

He didn't know. His school agenda continued to fill with assignments as October went by, as the day of reckoning drew closer, and he remained oblivious of what was to come. Orihime wanted to break away from the background, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. _You're going to die!_ she wanted to scream at him. If only she could take him somewhere far away, where those woods and that river and whatever lay ahead wouldn't be able to hurt him.

What had he done to deserve death? He was still a kid, with hopes and dreams and friends and so much potential. It just wasn't fair. She began to wake from her sleep with such a horrible pain in her chest that she would cry in the shower as she got ready for school.

She didn't want to see him die. Even if it was some sort of neighborhood mystery, even if it would have brought peace of mind to so many – but who would believe a teenage girl making claims that she'd dreamed of the dead? She lamented her misfortune. In all her seventeen years, she never would have imagined that she would become witness to the end of someone's life.

She refused to see it. There was no way that she would stand by, completely helpless, as he walked blindly into his own demise. She couldn't imagine those vivid green eyes suddenly being dull, that strong mind silenced, his kind heart still.

And so, with some degree of effort, she stopped sleeping at night.

It was gradual at first. One all-nighter, and then another. She crashed during daylight hours, when she would be dream free, and then she stayed up the entire night again. The sudden shift in her sleep schedule, however, was enough to make her already short attention span snap in two. She began spacing out in class, and at times even drifted off in the middle of an assignment. But Ulquiorra couldn't reach her during the day. She wouldn't let him.

When she did accidentally doze off one night, she saw that it was getting close to homecoming in his time. Finally, they had something in common. The morning announcements wouldn't shut up about the dance, and huge signs painted by the cheerleaders and student council were hanging from the school's ceilings, encouraging victory to the fighting kangaroos. She was surprised that Ulquiorra was going, but then again, it was Grimmjow who bought the tickets for the entire group so he'd had little choice in the matter. The thought of dances made him anxious, but the gang had to make an appearance for the sake of upholding their reputation.

"_And besides, we're seniors! You've skipped all the other ones," Grimmjow complained as he handed the ticket – a solid, navy blue deal with engraved silver lettering that could attach to the ID lanyards they had to wear around their necks – to Ulquiorra. "Humor me just this once, and I promise I won't force you to go to our senior prom."_

_The black-haired boy stared at the ticket. "They misspelled rendezvous," he said flatly, pointing out the error. "It says 'Midnight Renedy Vouz'."_

"_Maybe it was intentional?"_

"_I highly doubt that." Ulquiorra pocketed the ticket and winced, lifting a hand to rub his neck. He'd woken up with a sore throat that morning and had cursed the changing weather in a heartbeat. Leave it to him to get sick _now_, when he had so many exams approaching and everyone expected him to go to homecoming. Such a bother._

Orihime had forced herself awake when she'd realized that she was sleeping, making Ulquiorra and Grimmjow and the KHS hallway disappear into oblivion. She'd then turned to the TV, which was showing some infomercial on a revolutionary home gym that promised to tone every muscle in one's body, and stared at the screen through glossy eyes.

_No more, God_, she thought sadly. _Please… I don't want to see anymore…_

…

Why her, of all people? Orihime wondered this as she stumbled along on her way to English the next day, _Hamlet _the farthest thing from her mind. She arrived at the classroom early, in a stupor, and nearly missed the chair when she sat down next to Ishida, who watched her with a hint of concern behind his glasses. Promptly placing her forehead against the cool desk, she considered going to sleep right then and there.

Of all the ghost stories she had been told since she had started her investigation, nobody had mentioned having dreams of the boy who had lost his life in the woods. It was mostly the same creepy, haunting things that only that monster could cause; the monster that she had yet to find an explanation for.

She sat up with a gasp so loud that it caused Ishida to drop his pen. What if that winged creature was after Ulquiorra's soul? What if the dreams were a cry for help? But what the hell was she supposed to do to save him? She wasn't exactly the greatest fighter in the world, self-defense classes or not, and she was pretty sure that martial arts would do nothing against that _thing_. Turning to Ishida, who had recovered his scattered nerves, she remembered that he'd mentioned something about his family being religious. Maybe he would have an answer? "Say, Ishida,"

"Yes?" He looked up at her briefly as he searched for the pages they would be discussing.

"How does one go about exorcising a demon?"

His glasses slid down his nose, his eyes wide with surprise. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting that. "Well," he began, pushing the frames back into place, "normally, you cast it out in the name of the Lord. However, I would suggest having a pastor or priest nearby, someone strong in faith. You know, in case the demon decides to possess you."

Orihime stared at him in horror. "Oh," she said, and looked down at her copy of _Hamlet_. So much for that plan.

"Inoue," his voice drew her attention again, respectful as always. However, he seemed to stumble on what he wanted to say, and took in a deep breath before continuing. "You know, homecoming is next week, and all of us – with the exception of Tatsuki, who will not step foot into a dance – were planning on going."

Orihime blinked. "Uh-huh."

Was it her imagination, or did his face look a little flushed? "You hadn't said anything about it, so I was wondering if you were going too."

Of course. She'd been so sluggish and distracted lately that she had almost forgotten, even with all the bright banners and cheerful announcements, that she had a normal life to take care of. "Honestly, I hadn't given it much consideration," she said to him, then smiled, "but if this is an invitation, I'd be more than happy to go."

Ishida nodded once and turned back to his book. "Good."

"Good!" she agreed chirpily. Yes, she would go to homecoming – which meant dress shopping with Rukia, no doubt – because she was a typical high school girl, nothing abnormal about her. Even if she fell asleep during the cupid shuffle, she would be there, come hell or high water.

Or demons.

…

When one was severely sleep deprived, they had a tendency to lose touch with reality. Orihime must have been at that point, because she could have sworn she saw Nnoitra standing by the punch bowl. She blinked slowly, trying to focus, _really _focus, on what was going on around her. She was at homecoming, right? The football game had ended in victory, so everybody was pumped, and dancing much raunchier than they were allowed to. Nervous teachers constantly had to step in and break up couples whose rear ends were a little too close to their partners' crotches.

Orihime lifted a hand to her forehead, and as it passed over her eyes, Nnoitra's lanky form disappeared. Okay, so he _wasn't _there. She was just going crazy. That was cool, too.

"Orihime!" Rukia waved at her from the middle of the cafeteria, where she'd been dancing (appropriately) with Ichigo. "Come on! You feeling alright?"

"_You feelin' alright, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow asked._

"I'm fine," Orihime responded for both of them, stepping out onto the dance floor. Why wouldn't she be? Sure, she felt a little lightheaded and the decorations were a total eyesore, giving her one doozy of a headache, but that wouldn't stop her from having fun. That's what she had come to do, right? And sure, for a moment she thought she had seen Szayel walk past her in a pink tux straight out of the eighties, but he wasn't there to pester her. None of them were. Ah, there was Nnoitra by the punch bowl again, eyeing a pack of freshmen girls like a wolf staring down a flock of sheep. And over there she saw Aaroniero, who looked suspiciously like Ichigo, laughing with some guys from the soccer team. Then she blinked, and they had vanished again.

Oh, her concentration had been in the pits lately. Earlier that day, she had looked at her collection of ghost stories and hadn't been able to make heads or tails of her handwriting. She could only imagine what her poor teachers were going through as they graded her assignments. But so far, she had managed to avoid anymore unwanted dreams while she slept.

They were just slowly infiltrating her reality.

Where was Ulquiorra? She wondered this as a slower song came on and she accepted an invitation to dance with Ishida. Surely she should have known where he was; these were his memories, right? Not dancing with Ishida, but being at homecoming. Five years ago he had been standing in this same cafeteria, at this same dance, only the theme and the people had been different. She looked around for him, wondering where he could possibly be.

"Inoue? You don't look so good." Ishida's concerned voice cut through her stupor. Orihime turned to him again, smiling on reflex, though she knew that her make-up was half-assed and the bags under her eyes were bordering black; though her stomach was empty due to lack of an appetite and her soul was burdened with a mystery she hadn't asked for the opportunity to solve.

"I'm – oh!"

There he was. He stood by the windows, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. Away from the dancing crowd, he seemed to stand out, despite the obvious attempt to make himself invisible. But she saw him. She stared at him longingly, wishing she could charge across the room, pushing everyone out of her way… and do what? Would she throw her arms around him in front of the entire assembly and beg him to leave town as fast as he could? No, that wouldn't work. She recalled hearing somewhere that, when the time came for one to die, it would happen. Even if they dodged a speeding car, they would probably have a heart attack within seconds. It was their time, their day. There was nothing she or anyone could do to stop it.

But that didn't keep her from reacting when, lifting one hand out of his pocket, he buried his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughed so hard that she felt her own lungs seize in pain. "No!" She had barely torn out of Ishida's grasp when the world spun around her and, suddenly, she was looking at the ceiling. There was a clamor around her as she slowly began to realize that she had collapsed, the lack of sleep taking control of her limbs.

Ulquiorra was still there, and now he was looking at her. He stared for a second or two, then pulled away from the wall and came closer, his green eyes fixed upon her limp body. Finally, they were two separate entities, no longer sharing a body. He walked forward, straight through Rukia, who was calling out to her, but her voice could not be heard.

All she saw, all that she was aware of was Ulquiorra as he crouched down above her head, his gaze never once leaving hers. She wished she could say something; she had so many questions to ask him. Was he okay? Was the monster trying to eat his soul? Was there anything she could do to help him?

But he wasn't there. She _knew_ he wasn't there, and she was quickly heading to a place where she could find him.

_No…_ she didn't want to see it.

_No! _she cried out in her mind, but the homecoming dance was already fading, the colors and shapes rearranging themselves like bones snapping into place. She was too weak to fight it, so many sleepless nights descending onto her tired body like a heavy curtain, separating her from reality – no, from the present. Still, she tried to force herself awake.

But she could already smell the rain.

_The bus dropped them off at Venable Village, where a steady downpour had already begun. Ulquiorra lifted his throbbing head, eyeing the falling droplets with disdain. Well, at least the bad weather would put off the trick-or-treaters tonight, though he still had the brave few to watch out for. He'd always hated how the temperature would suddenly plummet towards the end of the month after giving everyone a few farewell snapshots of summer days._

_Nnoitra and Szayel, Tia and Starrk were already walking down the street, following after a tall girl named Mila Rose who was throwing a Halloween party at her house starting, oh, the moment they got in. The rest of the guests were supposed to show up later that night, and since they all lived nearby they'd decided to help her prepare._

_But as Ulquiorra stood there with his umbrella slipping from his hand, all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep. His temples were pounding, his throat raw and voice almost gone from coughing the entire week. The only way he would ever get better was by resting his body, and he was determined to do just that. "Hey," he said to Grimmjow, who had just hung up from a phone call with Nel that had lasted the entire bus ride, "I think I'm going to go home," he said, his voice a good octave deeper than normal and cutting out on certain syllables._

_Grimmjow pocketed his phone. "Not a bad idea. You sound like shit, man." Ulquiorra nodded distractedly. He didn't even have the energy to reply. Grimmjow's mouth pressed into a thin line, then he turned to the rest of the group. "Yo! I'm going to walk Ulquiorra to his house!"_

"_What? You serious?" Nnoitra called out, clearly wanting to get the party started so he could make a move on the hostess._

"_You don't have to." Ulquiorra coughed twice, wincing. "I can manage. It's just up the hill." He motioned with his umbrella for emphasis, sending a few raindrops in the direction of the woods. Grimmjow eyed him skeptically, but Ulquiorra summoned up enough strength to glare at him. "Really. You go on ahead."_

_A sigh, but the taller of them relented. "Alright," he patted his back, "you knock yourself out with some Nyquil, and don't you _dare _show up at school tomorrow, or so help me I will rip the tattoo off of your chest."_

"_Sure," Ulquiorra waved at the others apologetically and turned for the path that led into the forest. Nyquil didn't sound half bad. If he wasn't mistaken, they still had the grape flavored kind in the medicine cabinet, which didn't taste quite as disgusting as the others. As for the school thing, well, he couldn't make any promises. There was a practice AP exam coming up in his English class, and he wanted to make sure he had enough notes to study off of for the essay writing portion._

_The rain fell around him, hitting the trees and filling the air with that sound like someone was shushing a class of rowdy elementary school kids. Ulquiorra had always found it comforting, perfect for sleeping. As soon as he got home he was going to kick off his shoes, collapse onto the bed and possibly consider waking up after seven days of nothingness. That was sure to kill this flu, right?_

_Ah, but who needed a bed? The gentle rain's lull was so serene that he had half a mind to park himself under a tree and doze for a while. No, it was too cold for that… but strangely, he felt warm. Too warm. He reached up for the green scarf around his neck and pulled it off with a sharp tug._

_The sudden motion sent the world askew. He stopped walking, closing his eyes against the dizziness, and waited for it to subside before he kept going. Halfway there; he could see the bridge just a few steps away. Perhaps he should have eaten something more than an apple at lunch. His stomach was running on empty, his body having nowhere to turn to for the strength he needed to go further. The cold air caught his exposed neck and he started coughing again, violently, spitting up what looked like bloody mucus. Damn it. He needed tea. That was the only thing that had been able to put a stop to his racking coughs in the past, and it would definitely soothe his battered throat._

_His shoes scraped against the wooden bridge as he pressed onwards, trudging ahead with hooded eyes. But then the world turned again, and the muscles in his arms gave helpless spasms that caused him to drop both umbrella and scarf onto the wet ground. He would have leaned down to pick them up… but the world was still spinning, and his entire body felt hot and cold at the same time, and he was so lightheaded that…_

_He caught himself on the side of the bridge with a groan, legs shaking as the rain pelted his feverish skin. Maybe he would throw up and be done with it. Hopefully that was the case. Either way, it wasn't too late to call Grimmjow to help him up the hill after all. _

_Throw up. Retrieve umbrella and scarf. Walk home. Change out of wet clothes. Go to sleep. It all sounded so good. Anything was better than this horrible feeling._

_His legs gave out. No, not just them: His whole body was finally rebelling against his desperate attempts to keep moving. He knew he'd been pushing himself too hard this semester, but he'd had to look as good as possible so that UMHB would give him a full ride, and now he felt lighter than air, realizing too late that he'd fallen over the edge of the bridge._

_It wasn't a deep river, but the recent string of bad weather had caused it to swell. And it was freezing. He hit the water hard, his mind jolting awake, though his body refused to respond. His limbs were locked, protesting against their harsh treatment, wanting nothing more than to rest._

_Ulquiorra wanted to rest, too, but not here._

_This wasn't good. He sensed that water was entering his lungs, but he couldn't do anything, couldn't jerk himself out of the river. His eyes couldn't open to search the bank above, but it wouldn't help him anyway; he was beneath the surface now. Anything he saw would be rippled and unfocused._

_This wasn't good… this wasn't good… he needed to be conscious, to get out of the water. Damn it, why wouldn't his stupid body _move_? Didn't it realize what was occurring?_

_Oh God, this wasn't happening to him. _

_He wasn't drowning in a shallow river, that wasn't possible._

_No, no, no! Not him, not now. His eighteenth birthday was in exactly a month and a day, and his parents had already hinted at planning something special for him, like maybe getting him that laptop computer that he would need when he went off to college in the spring._

_Oh, college. He had to go, knock off his basic courses while he figured out what the hell he wanted to major in. He had to make something of himself, had to do something significant, make a difference in _someone's_ life. _

_And his friends. Oh, what about his friends? They were supposed to go to San Antonio together to kick off the New Year downtown. They had been planning a senior prank… something about numbering animals, but purposefully leaving one number out before setting them loose in the school so that the faculty would scratch their heads over the missing chicken or pig or cat – they hadn't decided yet. He was supposed to contribute to the Bring-Nelliel-to-Texas-for-Grimmjow's-Birthday fund._

_So much to do, and he couldn't believe that he wasn't going to be there. What were his parents going to say? What would the people at school say? What would everyone reading his story in the local newspaper say?_

_Probably the same thing he thought before all sound and sight and thought left him:_

_What a stupid way to die._

…

_He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there at the edge of the swollen river, examining the chain that connected him to the motionless body floating in the water, before he heard voices. "You really think something happened to him?" He lifted his head and saw Szayel, Grimmjow, Starrk and Tia approaching, still at a distance._

"_His mom wouldn't call me unless she had a reason to be worried." Grimmjow eyed his cell phone warily. "And he left for home hours ago."_

"_Hey… what's that?" Tia's voice interrupted him, and they followed her pointing finger to the discarded umbrella and damp green fabric on the bridge._

_Grimmjow's eyes widened. "Shit!" He ran forward, stopping just as he reached the items. "What the…?" And instinctively, he began to look around. _

_It didn't take long to find the body._

_Ulquiorra winced as Tia let out a loud, mournful cry; the first of many. He knew that they couldn't see him. He didn't want to see them. So he sat and lightly tugged on the mysterious chain, trying to ignore the sobs, the curses, the frantic 911 call. It had taken him a while to realize it, but the chain was actually not attached to his body at all. It was rooted into the very river itself, buried deep within its muddy bottom. So he was stuck, huh?_

_Up on the bridge, his friends were in shock, and they continued to lament for the next few minutes, even as the sounds of sirens drew closer._

_All of them except for Grimmjow, and the curiosity finally drove Ulquiorra to seek out his best friend among the group. He hadn't moved from his spot, his eyes had not torn themselves from the body in the water, the tattooed four visible beneath the wet shirt. And oh, the expression on his face… Ulquiorra knew that look; it had always been one of the easiest for him to read:_

_Guilt._

_He could tell, without asking, without a single word, exactly what was going through Grimmjow's mind. So it didn't surprise him in the slightest when he finally spoke, his voice a whisper thickened by grief. _

"_I should have walked him home."_

…

Orihime slept for two days straight. She was sure that she had woken up sometime, to get home from the hospital and to eat something, but other than that she had remained in bed, tucked securely under the covers. She might have heard Rukia, Ichigo, Ishida, Tatsuki and Chad coming to visit her. They'd been scared, and she was sorry, so very sorry. They would never know just how much.

She had pushed herself too hard, like Ulquiorra; but she was still alive, and he was dead. Nothing would change that, as much as his friends may have wished for it.

The dreams were beginning to taper off, she noticed. After Ulquiorra's last living memory, the rest came in staccato bursts. He was stuck there, rooted to the bridge and the river, the chain attached to his chest too heavy to allow him to move around much.

_Still, his friends came to see him. Grimmjow approached the bridge a few days later, the first to gather the guts to do so. Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back, and for the longest time he simply stared at the waters as if he would find in them the answer to every question he had about life and its unfairness. And then, he began to speak._

"_Your funeral sucked," he informed Ulquiorra, who sat below the bridge wishing he could pick up a pebble to skip across the water's surface. A silence passed between them. "They played 'Amazing Grace,' and I know that you don't like that song much. I tried to suggest something more this-century, but of course they didn't listen to me." Another silence. "Why should they listen to a murder suspect, right?"_

_Ulquiorra recalled the police snooping around earlier, looking for any signs of foul play. He blinked owlishly. They thought that he'd been murdered? Eh, it was more interesting than the truth, he supposed._

_Grimmjow shook his head. "Ah, whatever. You know that I didn't kill you. That's all that really matters, huh?"_

_Ulquiorra had been taking death… not well, but day to day. He supposed it hadn't hit him yet. _

_At least, not until he looked up and saw his best friend of so many years, the leader of the group, the strongest of them all, with tears in his eyes. "Fuck," Grimmjow muttered, wiping a hand over his face and looking away from the river, "why did you have to die now? I'm going to fail my calculus test because of you, asshole." He took in a deep breath, as if he wanted to say more, but in the end he turned away and started up the hill again, towards Pershing Park and his house on Wales Street._

_Ulquiorra stared at the moving waters in front of him. "You weren't supposed to cry," he said, though even if he could be heard, Grimmjow was already out of earshot, "you pansy."_

_A sudden burning pain in his chest sent him sprawling onto the wet grass, gasping and clenching his teeth. It was the chain, pulling at his skin as if it were trying to rip it off. But it stopped as quickly as it started, leaving Ulquiorra so tired that he was left with no choice but to close his eyes and sleep._

…

It was a little after seven in the morning when Orihime finally woke up. For someone who had undergone such severe mental strain, she felt surprisingly energetic, and since she was awake she figured there would be no harm in going to school. Besides, she needed a little bit of normalcy after everything that she'd seen in her dreams.

She tried not to think much about it as she stood from the bed, knowing that it would just make her sad, and she figured that Ulquiorra had endured enough sadness. It wouldn't be fair of her to force such feelings on him.

The curtains of her window were drawn; she guessed that her room hadn't seen much sunlight in the time that she'd slept. So she walked over and began to pull them back, knowing that it was still dark outside, but it wouldn't be for much longer. She was sure that her poster-filled walls would be more than happy to soak up a few rays of –

She cried out, stumbling backwards in her shock.

The demon.

It was there, across the street again. But this time it was standing below the street light, every single one of its horrible features revealed under the orange glow. Enormous black bat wings, an emaciated and pale body half-covered in what appeared to be fur, the long tail that she'd caught a glimpse of weeks ago, a gaping hole in its chest through which she could see the edge of the woods… and a grotesque, skeletal mask that covered its face, stretching up into two pointed horns.

Slowly it began to walk towards the house, towards the window, towards her, almost disjointedly. Orihime stared at it, wide-eyed and full of… fear? No. This wasn't fear.

It was anger.

"No," she whispered, standing up straight. "No!" she yelled at it again, wondering if the monster could hear her. She could certainly hear it, even through the wall and the brick between them, as if it were standing right beside her. A low growl sounded in its throat as it continued to advance. Orihime stood her ground. If this creature… this _demon _wanted Ulquiorra's soul, it would have to go through her to get it.

Now it stood just outside of the window, its massive body filling the entire frame. She half-expected it to demolish the wall and come in for her; it definitely looked strong enough to be able to do so. But for the longest time, they merely squared off against each other, her with a determined expression and it with an unfathomable one.

Then it moved. One arm bent back, then lifted, and as she watched the hideous beast placed a large, clawed hand onto the glass of the window. It didn't break the fragile surface. It didn't do anything. And Orihime, suddenly curious, took a hesitant step forward. Still no reaction, other than the same soft growl she had heard before. She came closer, her heart thrashing in her chest, and stopped just in front of her desk. The monster remained perfectly motionless. No breath, no voice, no movement at all, like some alien corpse.

Orihime's gaze landed on the glass, her eyes widening in amazement. A thin layer of ice had appeared on it. Was the monster really so cold? It growled again, and she looked up into its skeletal face, her heartbeat continuing to accelerate as her own arm separated from her side, acting on instinct. She leaned forward and, very carefully, pressed her hand against the glass between them.

What was happening, she wondered? If this creature was after Ulquiorra's soul, it could have easily smashed through and ripped a hole into her chest by now, eating hers and that of the boy as well. But after a few seconds of this silent, shared moment, the monster drew its hand back and retreated a few steps, lumbering through the grass. And then the mouth of that horrifying mask unhinged, and the beast let out a roar that knocked Orihime away from the window, sending her sprawling onto the floor of bedroom, taking the desk chair with her. She couldn't shut the sound out, no matter how hard she pressed her hands to her ears. Surely the entire neighborhood had heard it. Then suddenly, it was over, tapering off into an echo that reverberated through the woods, the house, her very soul. And when Orihime looked up again, the monster was gone, the sky just turning navy blue with the first light of sunrise.

Two things happened then. First, she began to cry, gut-wrenching and body-racking sobs that had her curling up into a ball on the floor because that roar – that awful howl – had been filled with so much pain. It was so mournful, so lonely, so laden with despair; it was too much for her to handle.

And second, she understood. How she hadn't seen it before was beyond her, but now she put two and two together. The haunting, the stories, the dreams, the monster, and Ulquiorra… it was all as clear as day. And next time she came face to face with that beast, she would make damn sure that there were no walls between them.

**To Be Continued**

**A/N: **Next chapter is last chapter! And shall be posted early on Halloween.

Random Fact: They really did misspell rendezvous on the homecoming ticket. I still have mine hanging on my ninth grade ID lanyard.

Now then, click that button and speculate… or ask me questions (reasonable ones, please)!


	4. Flowers

**A/N: **And here we are, the last chapter of Moratorium! Next I will be picking up **Muse **again, because with only four chapters to go, interesting things are bound to happen!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

**Moratorium**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Flowers**

Due to her two-day sleep, Orihime was unable to put together a decent costume before the night of Halloween, and therefore resorted to using her homecoming dress and claiming royalty. The plan was simple: get dinner with the group, go and help Ishida out – his church was putting together a safe night alternative and he'd requested their aid in preparing the event – and then finally hit the streets for trick-or-treating. Of course, unknown to her friends, Orihime had a plan of her own.

She hadn't seen or heard of the monster since her encounter with it the other morning, but she was absolutely certain that it would be making an appearance tonight – hopefully not when there were children out on the streets. And when it did decide to show that terrifying face, she was going to run out and confront it! There was a good chance that she could be possessed, and an even better chance that she could be ripped to shreds. But if it did decide to kill her, at least she could say that she'd tried.

"Are you sure you're alright to be going out?" Sora asked as he ripped open a bag of fun-size chocolate bars and poured them into one of several bowls he'd lined up on the kitchen counter. It was Saturday afternoon, close to sunset, and soon the neighborhood would be filled with all sorts of supernatural creatures looking for candy before they hurried away from Wales Street. Nobody liked to be there after dark, and considering the fact that it was Halloween, the reasons to be afraid had been doubled. What sort of ghosts would emerge from the haunted houses and ominous woods on the national night of horror?

"I'm fine," Orihime replied as she grabbed her coat and threw it on. She could see Tatsuki's car pulling onto the curb in front of the house. "Promise I'll be back before midnight. Oh!" Reaching behind her, she grabbed a plastic tray covered in various colors of paint and the small brush it had come with, then walked up to Sora. He had decided to go for a Frankenstein costume, so Orihime had done all the skin effects for him. "You're chipping a bit over here…" She dabbed a little more green by the corner of his eye. "Be sure to rinse this out as soon as the kids stop coming, okay? It says it's safe for skin, but one can never be sure."

Sora smiled at her, then reached up to adjust the fake bolts glued to his neck. "Sure thing. You guys have fun. I'll save you some candy!"

The next stop was Rukia's house in Venable Village. Luckily the guards were a bit more relaxed due to it being Halloween, so when the two costume-clad teenagers drove up to the gate, they were allowed in once Orihime had presented her ID. Tatsuki had chosen to be a prize-winning martial artist, whereas Rukia had chosen a witch costume, complete with broom and pointy hat. "You don't think I'll be chased out of Ishida's church with this thing on, do you?" She asked as she scrambled into the backseat.

"Not if you take off the hat before you get there. That way you can tell them you're a fairy or something," Tatsuki said with a grin as she pulled away from Rukia's home. Orihime cast a glance out the window at the woods as they passed by, feeling her heart flutter with nervous excitement. "I swear, I'd better be getting compensated for all the gas I'm spending picking everyone up."

"You're the one who volunteered!" Rukia kicked Tatsuki's seat.

"Hey!"

Orihime smiled at their antics, trying not to let her anxiety get the best of her. She was supposed to be enjoying herself. Whatever came later was going to have to wait until she'd gotten home with buckets of candy, which she would then dump out and sort after possibly trading with the others if she ended up with things she didn't like it. Perhaps she would even eat half of her bounty, just in case she really was going to die tonight. That way she wouldn't have to meet her maker with a growling stomach. Would she even get that far if her soul was eaten? She'd never actually considered it.

They picked up Chad – who lived in a sorry excuse for a house in Killeen's tiny downtown area – and Ichigo – who lived at the edge of Harker Heights, the next-town-over that was unofficially reserved for snobs, according to some bitter Killeen residents. Then, after a quick dinner at Chipotle in Heights' recently finished shopping center, they crossed the highway to Ishida's small church, where he was currently one of the only workers there. "Wow," he said when they climbed out of Tatsuki's car, "let me guess." He pointed at Tatsuki, "Prize fighter," at Ichigo, "vampire", at Chad, "a pharaoh," at Rukia, "a witch minus hat… thank you for being considerate," at Orihime, "and the prom queen."

"Princess," Orihime corrected him with finger quotations.

"In that case, you're missing something. Come with me." Ishida motioned for them to follow, and the group trudged up the hill towards the church, which consisted of three separate buildings, one of which was housing the actual event. "We're pretty much done arranging the backdrops, but I think they still needed help with lights and candy bowl-filling."

Ichigo cracked his knuckles. "Chad and I can take care of the light stuff. Sounds like men's work."

Rukia rolled her eyes. "In that case, us girls will relax and tackle the candy. Have fun getting dirty." She waved her hand at him dismissively. An argument would have erupted had Ishida not called over someone to lead Ichigo and Chad away. "This is a pretty sweet set up you've got here," Rukia told him as they walked into the building.

"It's all the fun and candy of Halloween minus the scary stuff." Ishida leaned over a table and began rummaging through a box sitting on a nearby chair. "Which I guess defeats the purpose, but to each his own. Ah, here they are." He straightened and turned to Orihime, holding out a plastic tiara. "They're part of the game prizes for the girls," he explained.

"Oh!" Orihime squeaked, reaching up to put it in her hair and ignoring the suggestive looks Tatsuki and Rukia were sending her. "Thank you, Ishida," she said with a smile. "I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier." Well, she did know, but she didn't want to let her friends in on just _how _scatterbrained she'd been as of late. She had been able to write off her homecoming collapse as 'stress due to her recent workload,' but she could tell by the way they narrowed their eyes at her whenever she gave them cause to worry that they weren't going to sit on their hands next time she started acting weird.

It was that, of course, which made them such good friends. Orihime knew that someday when this whole ordeal was over – _if _it ever ended – she would be able to tell them everything. Even if they didn't believe her, it was the least she could do for the ones who had been kind enough to adopt her into their lives without hesitation. "Alright," she patted her hair down so that the tiara would be fixed in place, "point me in the direction of the candy!"

…

The fact that nobody came to Wales Street after ten o'clock was a little depressing. Then again, most of the residents left for Halloween parties across the city when the knocking stopped, so Orihime supposed no one was really missing out on anything. She got home with two buckets full of candy, which she refused to share with Sora, knowing that he had probably devoured his weight in chocolate while waiting for trick-or-treaters to show up. "Don't complain," she scolded him sternly. "I actually went out and worked for my share."

"Uh-huh," Sora looked at her sourly. "Where did the tiara come from?"

"This?" Orihime reached up and adjusted the plastic, having almost forgotten that it was there. "Ishida gave it to me when we went to help him at his church a few hours ago."

"_Him_? Wait, who is Ishida again?"

"He was my homecoming date. The one with the glasses," Orihime answered, not failing to notice the defensive swell of her brother's chest at the mention of a male. "You met him, remember? You said he was a nice guy, so don't even start with – "

"You're too young!" Sora cried indignantly.

"—that. Right. I'm going to my room." Orihime rolled her eyes and walked past him, then stopped and clapped him on the back. "Good night, Frankenstein."

"And where are you going with all that candy? You have to save some for – " His voice was cut off as Orihime ducked into her bedroom and closed the door between them, giggling. He was probably going to ignore her throughout breakfast tomorrow, but if she consumed as much sugar as she was planning to, she might be too sick to eat anything until noon, at the earliest. Her dentist was going to have a field day next time she walked in.

She settled down onto her bed and selected one of each type of candy she had gotten, stashing the rest for when she had gone through those, then turned on the TV to wait. They were showing a horror movie marathon on almost every channel, so she had a decent pick from the classics as well as modern thrillers. Half an hour into Stephen King's _It_, which was really starting to freak her out, she heard Sora heading down the hall to his bedroom, probably to take a shower and get the rest of the gunk off of his face. A little while after that she switched to Adult Swim's anime block to calm her nerves, but periodically went back to _It_, because she found that it was like watching a train wreck and she couldn't look away for too long. And just as the children leaned in to examine the moving advertisement on which Pennywise danced, the demonic clown turned to them, pointed a gnarled finger and let out a beastly roar…

…that sounded way too close to have come from the television. Orihime clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, her eyes wide as she looked around the room. Then she caught movement from the window, which she had left open, and tore away from her bed in time to see a misshapen outline cut across the sky towards the woods.

Now was her chance.

Without grabbing so much as a flashlight, leaving the lights and the TV on behind her, she ran out of the bedroom and down the hall, throwing open the front door. She couldn't see the monster anymore, but she heard the sound of its wings beating against the night in the distance, as well as that of the shower running in Sora's room. _Sorry bro, _she thought before pushing the screen door aside and sprinting into the cold night.

_They came periodically to visit him, and each time they did, things weren't much better. First it was Szayel who was leaving, which caused all of them to riot because, after so many years, he wouldn't be able to graduate with his friends. He wasn't particularly happy about it, but he'd gotten into a prestigious medical program across the country, so he would have been packing his bags in a few months anyway. _

_Ulquiorra tried to shut out their complaints, tried to ignore the sorrow in their voices when they spoke to him, but it always went through, without fail._

Orihime ran across the street, past the streetlamp with its eerie orange glow, her eyes on the edge of the forest. She stopped for a moment, wondering if she could go back for some kind of light; it was pitch black in there. But she decided not to. Who knew how much time she had?

_After graduation, Starrk and Tia were the next to go. They were getting married – how sweet – and had decided to move to Austin where all the 'action' was. Of course, it was no surprise that the two of them had gotten into the University of Texas with their excellent grades. Unlike the others, they never once slacked off in their school and homework. Still, they reassured Ulquiorra that they would always miss him… that they'd never stopped._

_He didn't say anything to this, instead just staring at the water and wincing as the chain pulled even harder on his chest._

Orihime yelped as a branch cut into the skin of her leg. Figures she would run out in nothing but a pair of shorts, a tank top and a jacket in forty-degree weather. She couldn't see a damn thing. Her hands groped in front of her uncertainly as the ground began to slope downwards, towards the clearing that lay hidden beyond the trees.

_Nnoitra transferred to a university in New York after knocking out his basic courses at CTC. His parents had moved there earlier in the year, and paying out of state tuition on top of rent was starting to get expensive. Besides, the pickings in Killeen – in terms of women – were too small for his tastes. "Been there, done that, twice," he'd developed a habit of saying._

_Grimmjow pretended to be happy about this. After all, their eighth, ninth, and tenth grade years had been spent competing for Nel's heart, and Nnoitra had made it no secret that he would move in the moment Grimmjow screwed up. But Ulquiorra, had he been thinking in more than fragmented sentences by that time, knew that his best friend would be sad about it. Competition or not, they were still two peas in a pod, and the only ones with enough balls to pull half the pranks that they had._

_Nnoitra left a gift for Ulquiorra at the bridge: a snapshot of the group when they had graduated middle school, two years after they had adopted his quiet and studious self into their whirlwind of mayhem. The picture floated down and landed on the water, catching in the moonlight and illuminating their happy faces before sinking beneath the darkness._

Orihime gasped as her foot snagged on a twisted root coming out of the ground. She tried to regain her balance, but failed; there was nothing to grab onto. And so she fell, tumbling the rest of the way down the hill and earning a plethora of scrapes and bruises along the way. She could have sworn she landed in mud. Oh, this would require a lot of explaining when she got home.

_Finally, two years after graduation, it was Grimmjow's turn to leave. He was the only remaining member of the Espada, and had spent the last few months in a stupor, wandering the streets as a shell of his former self. New people had moved into the houses of his friends… all except for Ulquiorra's, which had stood empty since his parents had departed a year before. It was appropriate, he supposed. He couldn't imagine anyone else living there._

_The day before he left, he made sure to visit the bridge, though he had no gifts or words of wisdom – what could he say to someone who was already dead? – to offer. But that was alright. By then, Ulquiorra couldn't comprehend them anyway._

_He sat beneath the bridge, at the edge of the water, hidden away in the darkness. He wouldn't understand what Grimmjow had to say, but he would still hear the pain behind the words. It was all that he could recognize anymore, all that he'd been fed since the day he'd died: sorrow, regret, frowning faces and tear-filled eyes. He was no longer interested in their lamentations, despite the fact that they were the only things keeping him company in that miserable existence._

_That must have been the reason, he would have guessed if his thoughts could form beyond guttural growls, for what happened when Grimmjow stopped coming around._

Orihime pulled herself up to her feet, panting as she wiped the dripping mud from her jacket sleeve. She'd made it in one piece – barely – and now she stood at one end of the moonlit clearing, while the winged beast remained in the center, its whip-like tail snapping against the dead grass.

It was the strangest thing, really. Orihime still lacked the appropriate degree of fear; somehow a jolly actor in a demonic clown suit had been making her more anxious than a real life demon. So it didn't take much for her to begin walking closer. This time, she was the one advancing, encroaching upon its territory. The beast's wings drew closer to its towering body, the woods visible through the hole in its chest disappearing. Its mask unhinged, a growl slowly building to a roar in its throat, but Orihime refused to be threatened. She had to limp as her leg protested from the spill she'd taken, but she didn't back down in the slightest. Instead, she cut off its display of intimidation with one simple word:

"Ulquiorra."

_Two years of pulling, and the chain finally ripped free. He couldn't hold back the agonized scream that followed, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his chest and drenching the grass, flowing into the river and painting the water crimson. It was a pain far worse than his death, and though he could not think properly, every spiritual particle that formed his soul cried out with the desire to be released from the torture._

The monster's growl tapered off, its tail thrashing violently as Orihime continued to move forward. And, as stupid as it probably was to do so, she smiled. "Ulquiorra," she said again, her arms lifting from her sides, and she wanted to laugh, she was so elated in that moonlit moment.

_Every muscle in his body ached, his bones shattering and reforming, undergoing some hideous transformation that he couldn't see through the acidic tears that burned his eyes and skin as they cut paths down his face. It was too much… too much… his stomach heaved, which only caused more blood to pour from the hole in his chest. Stupid thing. How did it expect to get anything up there when he was missing part of his – _

_He doubled over and abruptly threw up, but it wasn't food coming out of his mouth. It was pasty and white and suffocating him. He couldn't breathe. And now he couldn't see as it came to life, surging upwards and covering his face. Oh God, when would it end?_

"Ulquiorra," Orihime was ten feet in front of him, then five, and then she stood so close that she could feel the cold coming off of his body like a blast of arctic wind. But she couldn't stop smiling, because she knew it was him, without a doubt in her mind. All she had to do was…

_He was free, but it hurt so much. The pain never truly stopped; he just simply learned how to tune it out as time went on. And his first instinct, as his rational mind was completely gone, was to soothe the loneliness that made the edges of the hole in his chest throb. He couldn't remember that his friends were gone, that if he sought them out, they wouldn't be there. But still he used his new wings to carry him above the bridge, above the forest, into the night sky where he could gaze longingly at the two heavens that were out of his reach: the one above, and the one below… the one he'd had in his lifetime… the one he had often taken for granted._

Orihime lifted her trembling hands, seizing the edge of the bonelike mask, and with the ease of one plucking a fallen leaf from the ground, she pulled it away from his face, too amazed to notice it crumbling between her fingers.

There he was. His black hair was much longer, but then, it had been five years since his death. And his eyes, a mix of yellow and green as the result of the burning tears that had left thick black markings down his cheeks, went wide at the sight of the mask deteriorating. But even with the sickly pallor of his skin, and the hole in his chest, and the wings and claws and horns… it was still him, Ulquiorra Cifer, the boy whose life had ended before it even had a chance to begin.

"You…" he said softly, his gaze rising to her smiling face.

"I understand now, Ulquiorra. I know why you were haunting the houses." Orihime closed her eyes, picturing each one in her mind. Hers, which had once belonged to him; Mrs. Anderson's, in which Nnoitra had lived; the house that had set up the surveillance camera, in which Starrk had lived; the one with the claw marks around the window, in which Tia had lived; the one by which the cat had been killed, in which Grimmjow had resided. And still there were the rest, up and down the street on either side, where Nel and Aaroniero and Szayel and Yammy had lived. She opened her eyes again. "You were looking for them, weren't you?"

Ulquiorra said nothing, staring at her as if she were the only person in the world. Orihime waited, anxious for any kind of response, and realized for the first time that she was no longer inside of his head. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, what he was feeling. It was unnerving.

And then those enormous bat wings swung forward and closed around them, encasing her in the darkness, in the cold that was slowly dwindling away. She had no time to speak before she felt his clawed hand around her jacketed arm, yanking her forward, and their bodies met as he embraced her, so tightly that the air left her lungs in a gasp. "Thank you," she heard him whisper as his arms circled her, holding her there as if she were the very source of his life. "Thank you so much."

Orihime could have laughed at the fact that she was being hugged by something she had never believed in. But she returned the gesture, her heart racing, her cheeks full of warmth that seemed to spread into his own skin. And when she took a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of a rainy day.

Still, there was a question nagging at the edge of her mind, and being the curious person that she was, she found herself drawing back enough to look him in the face – he seemed reluctant to let go of her. "Why me?" she asked, hoping she wouldn't insult him. "Why was I the only one who ever dreamed of you? Was it because I lived in your house?"

Ulquiorra shook his head, and she saw for the first time that the horns and wings were crumbling, much like the mask had when she'd removed it. "You," he lifted a human hand to gingerly caress her cheek. "You brought me something."

Orihime blinked. "The flowers?" He shook his head again, and she tilted her head, perplexed. She hadn't given him anything else. "Then what…?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they had reverted to their normal green. "A smile," he spoke so quietly that she almost didn't hear him. "You brought me a smile." He lowered his head until it rested on her shoulder, and she saw that he had become shorter, the scale of the monster body reduced to his average height. "Everyone else… they were so sad, so bitter, so full of regret. All of those heavy feelings kept me here, tied to that bridge. I had no way of asking them to stop, and in the end, it turned me into that _thing_."

Orihime was able to embrace him better now that he wasn't quite so large. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "that must have been so painful." Without the fur to cover him, the clothing that he had worn on the day of his death had reappeared, along with the number four tattoo on his chest, which she could see through the thin material of his white shirt. But perhaps the most remarkable thing, she noticed with her hands splayed across his back, was that the hole in his chest was gone.

Ulquiorra drew back, his hair its original length, the black tear marks falling off of his face like chipped paint. And he took a moment to observe that, yes, he was his human self again before he stepped away from Orihime. She knew from his memories that he wasn't one to outwardly express his joy, but she could easily see it on his face. No longer did he have to stay here, an earthbound spirit. He could move on to the peace of the afterlife, where he would never have to feel anything less than happiness and relief… at least, she hoped so.

…

Needless to say, Sora yelled at her. When he had come out of the shower and went to check on her before bed, only to find that she had disappeared, he'd nearly called the police. And then she had dragged herself out of the woods, muddy and bleeding, without so much as a decent explanation. "It's a long story," she promised him, "but it has a happy ending."

It had been a bittersweet moment, watching Ulquiorra's soul depart to whatever lay ahead of him. She almost wished that she would continue to dream of him, to see what he was up to, but when she finally went to bed that night, she ended up saving the toaster strudel kingdom from the pop-tart invaders instead. And the dreams weren't the only things to end: within weeks the neighbors noticed the change on Wales Street. It rained, and there was no stench. The animals were calm, no corpses with holes punched in them turning up anywhere. None of the houses reported anything strange, and nobody attested to hearing giant wings flapping at night. Soon the children were daring to stay out a little past sunset, until their parents called them in for dinner, and the people living in the area breathed a collective sigh of relief. The haunting of Wales Street was finally over.

Of course, all sorts of theories sprang up as to why it ended so abruptly. Orihime heard some of them on the first of December as she walked, with bouquet in arms, towards the path that led to the bridge. _Perhaps the evil spirit was exorcised by a passing priest_. No, people would have noticed a man of God walking around the neighborhood. _Maybe it devoured its target_? But nobody had died either. _I'm tellin' ya, it was all a bunch of hooligans, and they finally got bored_. Orihime grinned and shook her head at that one. Oh, if only they knew.

It was kind of lonely in her head without Ulquiorra's memories, but it was definitely peaceful. She didn't lose anymore sleep, wasn't constantly distracted, and was able to put it past her. She even got the courage to tell her friends what had happened, which she guessed was the reason that Rukia turned up at the bridge that afternoon, clad in a thick winter coat that covered almost her entire body. "Figured you would be here today!" she said cheerfully as Orihime approached.

"Of course," the redhead smiled and turned to lay the flowers down at the cross, arranging them fussily before righting herself. "There! A bouquet for the birthday boy!" she said, then counted on her fingers. "He would have been twenty-three today!"

Rukia smirked. "A little old for you, don't you think?"

Orihime rolled her eyes. "Oh please." She admired the bouquet, then crouched down and began messing with the flowers again. "I'm sad that he isn't here anymore… but at the same time, I wouldn't want him staying if it meant his unhappiness, you know?" Her fingers absently brushed against the soft petals. "Still, I made a promise to myself that I would keep bringing him flowers, and a smile," she took the moment to beam prettily, "just in case he ever decides to visit."

Rukia chuckled. "We'll all be sure to smile when we pass by here, then." She patted the top of Orihime's head before the taller girl stood. "Now let's go! There are exams to study for, and I'm sure both of your lovers wouldn't appreciate you failing algebra."

Orihime flushed red as they turned away from the cross. "Rukia!" she squealed, burying her face in her hands. "Don't say it like that! Ishida and I are _just _friends!"

"_Sure _you are." The dark-haired girl rubbed her hands together diabolically. "I'll bet that by New Years the two of you will be gazing into each others' eyes like lovesick morons."

…

On Christmas, she brought him poinsettias. On New Years, she brought him a bouquet full of flowers with a colorful array that had reminded her of fireworks. On Valentine's Day, she brought him an assortment of roses. In March, she brought him tulips. And in April, she brought him a collection of Texas wildflowers that sprung up everywhere in the hill country, painting it with life. She figured that it would be nostalgic for someone who had lived there for so long.

But as she stood up, dusting off her sundress – it had finally warmed up enough to wear one – she heard footsteps approaching from the direction of Pershing Park and looked up, expecting a jogger or a family of four out for a stroll. Instead, she was completely blindsided by the sight of two people she thought she would never get to meet:

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques and Nelliel Odelschwanck.

Of course, they definitely looked five years older. Grimmjow had lost the boyishness she'd seen in Ulquiorra's memories – but kept the blue hair. Nel's sea-green locks fell in waves down to her mid-back, her face having also lost that girlish quality of the past. And both of them were staring curiously at the teenager who had placed such happy-looking flowers at the memorial site of their melancholy friend. Orihime could see Nel trying to figure it out – _do we know this girl?_ – and of course they didn't, but she felt like she'd known them her entire life. "Hi!" she greeted them timidly, feeling a blush crawling to her cheeks.

"Hi," the two responded uncertainly.

Orihime exhaled. So far, so good. "You're probably wondering who I am and why I'm bringing Ulquiorra flowers, huh?" She lowered her gaze when Grimmjow's eyes widened, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "It's kind of complicated… oh, wait! How rude of me. I know everything about you two and you guys don't know squat about me. My name is Orihime Inoue! It's nice to finally meet you, Grimmjow and Nel. Though to be completely honest, I wasn't prepared for – eep!" she yelled as Grimmjow, his expression a mixture of rage and confusion, grabbed her by the shoulders.

"How did you know our names?" he demanded, giving Orihime a good shake. But then suddenly he stopped, no longer paying attention to her, and neither was Nel. Feeling his grip on her loosen, Orihime turned herself around to see what had them so distracted.

"U-Ulquiorra!" she squeaked, her heart soaring at the sight of him after so many months. He was perched on the edge of the bridge, looking as healthy as ever, dressed in a bizarre uniform with what appeared to be a sword in his hand. About the only thing that hadn't changed was his face, flat and unreadable as he slid down from the wooden post and walked up to them. He stopped in front of Orihime, nodding at her once.

"Thank you for the consistent flowers," he said.

A huge smile took hold of her. "So you've seen all of them?" she asked breathlessly, so overwhelmed that she had to resist the urge to tackle him.

Ulquiorra just barely shrugged. "I've been in the area," he said, lifting the sword in his hand. "Apparently there are people in charge of taking newly deceased souls to the afterlife. Who knew? Anyway, to apologize for the inconvenience, they're giving me some crash courses and promising that I can take over everything from Nolanville to Copperas Cove once I've got the hang of it."

"Then you'll be around more often!" Orihime clasped her hands together in delight. Then the two of them remembered Grimmjow and Nel, who were staring in shock at Ulquiorra, Nel looking like she was about to faint. Orihime cleared her throat and quickly moved out of the way, pretending to busy herself with the flowers to give them some privacy. She vaguely wondered how Ishida would react to the news that Ulquiorra was back in the neighborhood. Would she get to see some jealousy out of him? Her cheeks colored. That would be kind of exciting.

"Y-You…" Grimmjow stuttered, gawking at his friend in disbelief. Nel came forward, her curiosity finally getting the better of her as she reached out her left hand to touch the apparition in front of them. But true to form, her hand passed right through him. She withdrew it with a gasp.

Ulquiorra glanced down at the ring on her finger, glinting in the sunlight as she brought it back to her side. "It was a nice wedding," he said finally.

Grimmjow lowered his head. "You were there?"

"Of course," Ulquiorra replied, then added as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I was your best man, remember? I stood behind you the entire time."

"You did…?"

He nodded. "I promised," he said, tugging aside the uniform's collar to reveal the number four tattooed on his chest. Seeing it, Grimmjow threw his head back and began to laugh loudly, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. And Nel was giggling too, though there were tears cascading down her cheeks. Ulquiorra shook his head. "You're both saps," he scolded them gently, "but it was nice to see everyone again." Then he looked down as an annoying chirp sounded from somewhere within his uniform. Withdrawing a strange emblem from the folds of his sleeve, he frowned. "Sorry… my boss only gave me a few minutes," he said as he silenced the contraption and, almost immediately, his body began to fade in the surrounding air. He glanced over his shoulder at Orihime, who was doing her best to smile, despite feeling sad that he was leaving so soon. "See to it that these two are properly filled in."

"Will do," Orihime promised, waving at him as he disappeared, and the warm spring air settled around them comfortingly. Standing to her full height, she stretched her arms above her head and turned her attention to the happy couple. "So… I imagine that you all have a lot of questions," she said, and they looked at her expectantly.

Orihime took in a deep breath, wondering where to even begin. How was she supposed to tell these two, who had known Ulquiorra since the sixth grade, all about his becoming a monster and haunting Wales Street because their sorrow had put his soul in moratorium? Well, they had already brought him a smile, so she supposed they were off to a good start. "How about we grab some food first?" she suggested as she walked past them, motioning for them to follow. "My house is just up the hill."

**The End**

**A/N: **Ah, as much as I love to torture characters, I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Thank you all for sticking with this story, and I hope you (SAFELY) enjoy your October 31sts, whether you're trick-or-treating, going to church, heading to a party, or just staying home.

Until next time!

**/Princess Kitty1/**


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